Category: Teatime Tattler Page 20 of 152

Dear Readers,

It has come to this editor’s attention that the formerly vacant shop on the road off of New Bond Street has now become occupied by two lady milliners, a Mrs. Harcourt and a Miss Emmeline Harcourt.

They proudly share that as the proprietors of Harcourt’s Hats, they sell sashes, cravats, gloves, hatpins, and even umbrellas to curious passersby. In silks or satin, brocade or linen, the ladies offer bonnets, caps, and turbans for the stylish women of London.

However, the owner of the shop, Mr Bryant, may not take kindly to entrepreneurial women invading his street. But rumour has it he is spending his time with his new bride, the former actress, Lucinda Cross.

It is said that Mr Bryant’s former best friend, Mr Whittaker, has already crossed paths with the beautiful and taciturn Miss Emmeline Harcourt, who is known to speak her mind and show a willful independence, which may be off-putting to potential suitors.

Will the Bryants be open to the new shopkeepers in town? Will Miss Emmeline Harcourt meet her match at Harcourt’s Hats?

I leave to you, dear reader, to find out.

About A Lyon to Die for: Emmeline Harcourt fell in love with the wrong man and now is paying the price.

Crossed in love and sent to London for almost ruining her reputation, Emmeline is the only female proprietor in an exclusive row of London shops whose owners aren’t the most welcoming. But with a sharp tongue and fiery temper, Emmeline can deal with her unfriendly neighbors, even Mr Horatio Whittaker, an arrogant, reserved, opinionated young man with fixed opinions and cold manners.

Horatio Whittaker has given up on happiness. Abandoned at the altar for his scheming best friend, he never expected to find love again. He hardly notices women until he crosses paths with Miss Emmeline Harcourt.

Emmeline hopes to never encounter Mr Whittaker again, but when she accepts an invitation to the Lyon’s Den, they find themselves at the heart of a mystery, entangled with Horatio’s former fiancee and deceitful best friend.

From false accusations, rumored affairs, and even a deadly party game, Emmeline and Horatio must work together to prove their innocence and find the culprit. Pretending they are courting should make investigating easier, so long as they don’t fall in love.

All’s fair in love and war at the Lyon’s Den, and this is a Lyon to die for.

Preorder link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CXBN5L89/

About the author: E. L. Johnson writes historical mysteries for Dragonblade Publishing, the #1 ebook publisher of Historical Romance on Amazon. A Boston native, she gave up clam chowder and lobster rolls for tea and scones when she moved across the pond to London, where she studied medieval magic at UCL and medieval remedies at Birkbeck College. Now based in Hertfordshire, she is a member of the Hertford Writers’ Circle and the founder of the London Seasonal Book Club.

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calipers

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A marquess, an heiress, and a marriage most secretive!

By Rue Allyn

On March 27, 2024

In Teatime Tattler

Dear reader,

Is scandal brewing in the dark?

This author has it on good authority that an heiress has married a certain marquess in secret. Is something afoot? This author thinks so! Why? News has reached my wandering ear that not one, not two, but three special licenses were issued to the same lord (this author shall not name him to protect his wavering dignity). But you, dear Marquess, know who you are!

I shall leave it up to you, dear reader, to guess the pair.

Your faithful correspondent.

~~~

About By No Means A Gentleman

If he intends to fight dirty, so will she . . .

Lady Harriet Hillstow never imagined even in her wildest dreams that she’d discover her father had arranged a marriage for her with the wicked and wily Marquess of Leeds on the very day he shows up with a special license! Never mind the man’s unnerving handsomeness, Harriet made a vow to her mother that she would never marry a man who would not fight for her. Can she allow such injustice to occur all because the men are worried about of a few silly wagers circling about town? Certainly not! Leeds is about to discover she is not so timid as the gossip rags claim.

William Fitzgerald Hamilton, the Marquess of Leeds, has never been an opportunist. Until the moment a chance to marry the woman of his dreams falls into his lap. There’s only one problem. For some reason, Harriet loathes him. William has no choice but to go all in to discover why and win her over, lest the spirited beauty slip through his fingers forever.

Will this proposed arrangement become the source of their greatest misery or the surest passion that might just set their marriage aflame?

Purchase link: https://www.amazon.com/Means-Gentleman-Ladies-Dare-Book-ebook/dp/B0CTSPKGTH

Wallflower Sister of London’s Famed Golden Sisters Ends Fourth Season Following Incident with Duke’s Daughter

By Susana Ellis

On March 23, 2024

In Teatime Tattler

7 May 1817

Almack’s Assembly Rooms

King Street

London

Rebecca MacPherson took a step back to avoid the couple waltzing perilously close to her refuge near the potted palm outside the refreshment room. If her mother hadn’t insisted on attending the assembly rooms tonight, she could be at home re-reading her favorite of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels, A Sicilian Romance. Instead, she had been duly dressed in her least-favorite gown, the pink silk with the pintuck bodice that made her bosom seem even larger than it was, and the white embroidered overdress with three rows of pink flounces sprinkled with rosettes that made her feel like an overgrown ten-year-old at a birthday party.

“You must make the most of your assets,” her mother had fussed, not for the first time. “You don’t have your sisters’ height or elegant figures, but some men prefer ladies of more generous proportions.”

Did they? Rebecca doubted it. After four Seasons, she was the only one of her presentation group who hadn’t married. Or even come close. Well, there had been Tommy Huddleston, who had paid her some attention two Seasons ago, but dropped her like a hot potato when he fell in love with a lovely singer at Covent Garden. Rebecca, who couldn’t sing a note, and learned more Italian from her music teacher than how to play the pianoforte, had only her connections and fortune to recommend her. The fair Bianca, the daughter of a butcher whose career was pushed forward by her late protector, an Italian conde, had neither, but Tommy wed her in spite of it.

Rebecca fanned her face to hide the flush she felt creeping up over her cheeks. Everyone knew Rebecca’s connections, being the daughter of a wealthy Scottish father and a mother distantly related to the Duke of Devonshire. They also knew that she had two older twin sisters, Arabella and Alice, both considered diamonds in their presentation year, who had each snapped up an earl before the end of the Season. “Poor Rebecca” was a phrase she should be accustomed to hearing, after failing to “take” four Seasons in a row.

Her mother insisted that she should “put herself out more” for the older gentlemen, widowers in need of mothers for their children. Rebecca was fond of children—she was an indulgent aunt to her own niece and nephews—but she wanted more than that from marriage. Perhaps love was too much to expect for someone like her, but surely there should be some affection between a husband and wife. Trust as well, since marriage was for a lifetime, and one didn’t wish to be married to a monster, after all. The fiasco of the Prince Regent’s marriage should serve as a lesson to all, she thought.

The music stopped and a mob of overheated dancers made a beeline to the refreshment room. Rebecca found herself pressed backward by them until she collided with someone behind her.

“Look what you’ve done! My gown is ruined!”

Rebecca whirled around, only to see the haughty Lady Alicia Howland with a sizable stain on the bodice of her ivory taffeta gown, an empty glass in hand. Her escort glared at Rebecca as he pulled out a handkerchief and made a move to use it to mop up the liquid before the impropriety of doing such a thing occurred to him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there… I was pushed, you see, and… Here, allow me to help you, my lady,” Rebecca stammered, seizing the handkerchief and making a move toward the angry duke’s daughter.

Lady Alicia drew back. “Don’t touch me! Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

A maid appeared to escort her to the ladies’ withdrawing room, but her next words could be clearly heard by all in the vicinity.

“Such a nuisance, that girl. Not at all like her charming sisters. Someone should tell her to hold back on the bonbons, for the safety of us all!”

If she could have dropped through the floor, Rebecca certainly would have done so. A tingling swept across her face and the back of her neck. For a long moment the room was quiet, and she looked around to see a sea of faces directed at her, some showing sympathy, some disapproval, and some—including her own sister Alice—with pursed lips, apparently trying not to laugh.

And that was the end of her fourth Season.

The Third MacPherson Sister is a wallflower story that first appeared in Sweet Summer Kisses, a 2014 anthology. The story of Lady Alicia Howland, the duke’s daughter whose scathing remarks effectively ended Rebecca’s fourth London Season, can be found in the Bluestocking Belles’ most recent Christmas anthology, Christmastide Kisses.

The Third MacPherson Sister

Christmastide Kisses

About Susana Ellis

Susana Ellis is a retired teacher, part-time caregiver, sewist, cook, and fashion print collector. Lifelong reading and a fascination with history led her to writing historical romances. She is one of the original Bluestocking Belles and a member of Regency Fiction Writers and the Maumee Valley Romance Authors Inc.

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You can contact Susana Ellis at these social media links:

What’s a poor girl to do?

By Guest author

On March 16, 2024

In Teatime Tattler

By a special correspondent

The Four-to-One Fancy by Elizabeth Ellen Carter The Ladies London Observer has sent your reporter up north to the fair city of York to report on events happening outside of London, renowned for the Season. Yes, Season with a capital ‘S’.

For many of us, there is one Season, but for those young women who are not fortunate enough to make their debut and be selected to have their coming out attended by royalty, some of the regional cities of the Kingdom may yield eligible young men – especially if they happen to be short of a dowry.

This is what leads me today to sit in Lady Clune’s salon to observe the young ladies of quality who have come to her notice.

“I take my role as hostess for the season very seriously, indeed,” said Lady Clune. “Before they receive vouchers for various events under my auspices, the young ladies are required to attend an at-home so I can see their comportment.

“I wish to ensure that as many successful matches will be made as possible. What we lack in numbers, we make up for in enthusiasm!”

I look around and see a dozen young ladies at today’s event, there are precious few young men.

Lady Clune sees the direction of my gaze and is keen to reassure me that there will be plenty of young men of quality from the towns outside York – ah yes, the landed gentry. I ask our hostess who she has the most hopes for

She discreetly points to a couple of local beauties who, I have to admit, wouldn’t be out of place in London. My eye is caught by two young ladies in conversation in a small party. They draw my attention because of how very alike they are and not just in physical appearance – willowy and graceful with auburn hair.

Their mannerisms mirrored each other completely – the raise of a hand to take a cup of tea, the slight tilt to the right as they considered their part in the conversation. It was the most remarkable display.

I discreetly took a step closer as I would listen in on the conversation. One would begin a story or an anecdote and the other would take up the story seamlessly, as thought it was being told by one person.

“Ah, I see you have spotted Lady Ivy and Lady Iris Bigglesworth,” said Lady Clune uncertainly. This particularly piqued my interest.

The good lady inclined her head and silently indicated that I should follow her a discreet distance away.

“There is something you should know about the girls,” she began.

I told her that I had guessed that Lady Ivy and Lady Iris were twins.

“Yes that is true and of all nine sisters, they and their older sister Josefina have the best chances of making a successful match.”

Nine? All from the same family? All hoping to find husbands?

“Oh! No, I should clarify, three of those girls are still in the school room, cared for by late Earl of Seahaven’s fifth and youngest wife, Lady Patience Bigglesworth.”

Six young women – seven if you include the young widow from the same family all in York for the same purpose. The late Earl must have left a substantial dowry.

Lady Clune shook her head sadly. There is barely enough to make a decent dowry for one, she tells me.

“I don’t care to be quoted on this, but the new Earl of Seahaven has been most dreadful to the girls. They were living quite happily in the family holding and there was enough room for them to do so comfortably but he refused,” she said.

“He tossed the girls out and most of them have had to,” Lady Clune drops her voice to a whisper, “work for a living.

“Mind you, Seahaven’s affairs were in the most dreadful shambles. He so expected a son from each woman he married that he never got around to updating his will.”

Excerpt from the Four-to-One Fancy (previously published in Desperate Daughters). This novella will be released as a standalone on 1 May.

Iris watched her sister shift the heavily laden basket onto another arm.

“Here, let me take it for a while,” she said.

Ivy shot her a grateful look and relinquished the basket.

After a moment Iris spoke. “Are you nervous?” she asked.

“What about?”

“I feel the weight of expectation—on you, me, Josefina—to find a husband this season.”

Ivy nodded. “Patience has expended an enormous sum to give us this opportunity, that to go back to Starbrook without an offer…”

“It’s only because our sisters gave up their portion of the dowry that we have an acceptable sum to offer,” Iris added.

“We have our titles, but they mean little,” said Ivy.

“We may not be pretty enough to attract the eye of a suitable gentleman.” Iris let out a long, dispirited sigh.

Silence fell between them for good long minutes before Ivy asked. “What kind of gentleman would you like to marry?”

Iris considered the question a moment before shrugging a shoulder.

“He must be kind. I’d like him to be handsome. Most of all, he must love family because I would want you to visit me often.”

“That worries me as much as not finding husbands,” Ivy confessed. “What if we do? We would marry and be apart for the first time in our lives.”

The notion caused Iris to stop. She turned to her sister.

“I… I can’t imagine not seeing you every day,” she said.

They remained there on the pavement, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Do you think there may be brothers in attendance?”

“There might,” said Iris, tilting her head. “We would need to see an invitation list to be sure. Why do you ask?”

Ivy raised her chin in firm resolve. “It is the only way forward. By marrying brothers, we would be sure to see each other more often than if we married anyone else. We have to marry brothers. It is the only way.”

Love is in the Air

By Alina K. Field

On February 24, 2024

In Teatime Tattler

Take a leap into love…

Dear Reader,

We’ve sent an intrepid reporter to a most interesting gathering in the town of Upper Upton in Sussex. It is not often one sees a Viscount, an Earl, and a Marquess and their ladies gather to attend the wedding of an innkeeper.

However, not only did these esteemed peers attend, but the bride, a young widow of seemingly no importance, was escorted down the aisle on the arm of the marquess.

The whole event had the air of a rowdy country fair. Why, even a houseful of children from a nearby charity home piled into the church and attended the breakfast that followed.

Why? we ask.

It seems that the groom is a military comrade of the valiant peers who fought so bravely in defense of England; further, the bride has a connection with none other than the marchioness, Lady W. who we have written about in this earlier dispatch: Secrets and Lies.

Have no fear, we will report more on this story as soon as we learn more.

~~~~~

A Leap Into Love

Can a gentleman be too charming? The ladies of Upper Upton think so.

And it’s almost Leap Day, when a man who refuses a lady’s proposal of marriage must offer a forfeit.

When the single ladies of the village conspire to teach their charmer a lesson that might bankrupt him, the town’s loveliest young widow steps up to warn him.

His secrets and hers make them a perfect match—and she’s the lady he wants. But she won’t accept his proposal, not even to rescue him.

As Leap Day approaches, the clock is ticking. Can he convince her in time to say yes to his offer and take a leap into love?

Excerpt

When the Ladies’ Society for the Improvement of Village Life gathered, discussions could drag on.

Mrs. Myra Smith stood at a distance, watching the exhalation of so much talk fog the air in the unheated assembly rooms of the Royal George Inn. From her station near the door, she kept an eye on the boy who’d marched off to the far end of the room, away from the ladies.

The Society’s grandiose title always made Myra smile. Stuffy-sounding though it might be, the Ladies’ Society did have a valuable purpose. Village life could be dull, and didn’t she know that well.

It could also be closed-minded, a trap Myra was always dodging. She was here today representing Longview, the nearby children’s home that had brought so many interesting characters to Upper Upton—the teachers, ladies of questionable background like herself, and the children, London’s outcasts, who’d found shelter, and training, and love.

Longview had been generously endowed by the Lords Cathmore, Hackwell, and Wallenford, much as their lordships had endowed this whole village, trying to make the residents of Longview more palatable to the good citizens of Upper Upton. Even this inn had been thoroughly modernized and expanded. Their lordships had even plucked the handsome innkeeper from among their former military comrades.

Thoughts of the man reminded her, she and Barty should be on their way. “The room is quite adequate to your needs,” Myra said. “The children and I shall certainly see to—”

The door to the assembly rooms whooshed open, silencing her.

A wide smile flashed her way, and she caught her breath. “Mr. Grant,” she said with a clipped curtsy, remembering what she was dealing with.

True to his nature, Alexander Grant turned that handsome gaze on the other three ladies and bowed all around. “Such loveliness brightens the dreary aspects of this day.”

His grin widened, and his dark hair sparkled in the light from a tall window. The cold February rain had dampened his coats and breeches and ruddied his cheeks under the dark stubble. Warmth rose in Myra. She shook herself, searching for words.

Buy Link: https://books2read.com/ALeapIntoLove

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling and Award-winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California where she shares a midcentury home with her two rescued dogs, a spunky, blonde terrier and a super-friendly chihuahua.

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